


Forever Alone

by Heiwako



Category: Elder Scrolls V: Skyrim
Genre: Drama, Gen, Literature, fan fiction
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-27
Updated: 2015-07-27
Packaged: 2018-04-11 15:04:25
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,827
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4440437
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Heiwako/pseuds/Heiwako
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A/N: Inspired by Skyrim Kink Meme. The prompt was - I see a lot of fills where Cicero is totally infatuated with the Listener, well how about we turn it around? The Listener is head-over-heels for the weird little jester, and he's just not interested. Maybe she's not his type? Or maybe he's too insane to really return her affections?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Forever Alone

As the sun set behind the Throat of the World, Marilena thought she was going to cry. 

Maramal placed his hand on her shoulder sympathetically. "I'm sorry, my dear, it doesn't look like he's going to show. If you like, you can stay here a while. Maybe he was delayed by bandits or bad weather. However, we have to start cleaning up and close the temple soon." 

"I understand, Maramal," Marilena whispered. "Thank you." 

The priest of Mara gave her another gentle squeeze on the shoulder before leaving to start the rituals for his goddess. He felt for the poor child. She was only eighteen and this was the fifth suitor who failed to show up for the ceremony of matrimony. 

Maramal didn't know if they had met tragic ends or had simply gotten cold feet, but he knew that it left the poor girl feeling desolate. The first time she had arranged a wedding; there had been people from all over Skyrim. Jarls, thanes, and famous warriors as well as common people alike had gathered into the temple of Mara to celebrate the happy day. 

They had waited and waited and the groom had never showed. One by one, they gave their apologies and departed. Marilena had wept for hours on Dinya Balu's shoulder. Maramal had worried that she would weep so hard that she would be sick, but thankfully there had been none of that. 

Finally, when she had worn herself out, her friend had escorted her home to Honeyside. Maramal hadn't seen the Dragonborn for at least a week after that. He didn't know if she had just holed up in her residence the whole time or if she had gone off to kill some draugr, but either way the next time he saw her, she was smiling again and with another beau on her arm. 

And so it happened time and time again. Each time the groom wouldn't show up. The guests would give their condolences and leave. Maramal and Dinya would clean up. Marilena would cry. And her strange friend in the black and red outfit would take her home. 

Now only the odd fellow bothered to attend the failed ceremony. No one else had even bothered to stay. Mjoll, bless her heart, had come in for a little bit, but left quickly after with Aerin trailing behind her. 

"Come on, Cicero," Marilena said dejectedly as she placed her bouquet in a nearby vase. "Let's go home." 

"As you wish, my mistress," the jester said in his high-pitched voice. He had always capered about and laughed hideously loud when Marilena had first arrived to get married, but nowadays he seemed to absorb the somber atmosphere and was calmed by it. 

The two of them held hands and departed. 

Maramal thought Cicero seemed off. Probably Void touched. But he had to admire the man's dedication to the much younger Breton. Part of him wished that the two of them would wed since Cicero was obviously pledged to the woman. 

 

Once the two returned to Honeyside, Cicero helped Marilena undress and wipe her face clean of her smeared makeup before tucking her into bed. He carefully folded her wedding dress before placing it in the chest by her bed. 

"Cicero," the girl asked sounding very young. "Will you please sleep by me tonight?" 

"Of course, my Listener," he responded. The Fool crawled into the bed onto of the blankets and stretched out so he was next to the Breton. 

The blonde rolled over so she could rest her head on her Fool's shoulder. "Why do they never come?" she wailed. Large tears rolled down her cheeks. 

Marilena fell in love easily. Maybe it was because she had grown up with stories of heroic knights and damsels in distress, but she had always dreamed of finding true love and spending the rest of her life with him. That path had been slightly disrupted when she had been drawn into the Dark Brotherhood and the Night Mother had picked her as the esteemed Listener. But being the head of a murderous cult had not changed her basic romantic nature. 

Marcurio had been the first. She had met him in the Bee and Barb, a mage looking for work. They had haggled and Marilena had hired him. They had traveled together and nothing beyond kissing had happened, but Marilena had known he was the one. He was handsome, smart, and strong. Everything a girl could want in her hero. 

She had started wearing the Amulet of Mara, he had noticed, and the wedding date had been made. She couldn't have been happier. Then the wedding date came and went with no sign of Marcurio. A week later, someone had found the mage's body in Lake Honrich. There was no way to figure out cause of death because of the damage to the corpse from the water and fish, but most people just assumed he had gotten drunk celebrating his good fortune and accidentally fell into the lake. It happened in Riften often enough, and although tragic, not really suspicious. 

Marilena had fled to the Reach where she had done enough deeds to gain the jarl's attention. He awarded her property and a housecarl  Argis the Bulwark. Argis wasn't as handsome or as smart as Marcurio had been, but he had been kind and protective. It was that same sense of chivalry Marilena remembered from her stories and she had fallen for him too. 

His body had been found outside of a Dwemer ruin. Speculation was he had decided to brave it alone, maybe to find a piece of jewelry or a word wall for his thane, and Falmer had found him. It would explain the dozens of stab wounds in his back. 

Athis of the Companions was a Dark Elf warrior. The Companions only accepted warriors who could pass their tests of prowess and honor, so he should have been more than capable of defending himself or Marilena from trouble. 

His body had been found outside of a wolves' den and torn into bite size pieces. 

Stenvar had been another hireling, but from Windhelm and he was a fighter. He had seemed a simple but honest man. Kind and earnest, Marilena had eventually worn her Amulet around him and had been delighted when he had proposed. Then he had disappeared, never to be seen again. 

Then she had noticed Balimund, the local blacksmith in Riften, after delivering some fire salts for his forge. He was sweet, strong, and ruggedly handsome. Although significantly older than Marilena, old enough to be her father, that didn't bother her. She thought that since he didn't have any vices, no enemies, had never adventured, and lived in town that surely he would have made their wedding date. 

But he hadn't and she dreaded to think of what may have happened to him. 

"I think I might be cursed, Cicero," she whispered in the hollow of her jester's arm. "Maybe I'm not mean to be happy." 

"Happiness and marriage aren't the same thing at all, my Listener," Cicero said, laughter in his voice as always. "Cicero isn't married and he is quite happy." 

"Yes, you are," Marilena smiled. "You're always happy, my laughing jester." 

She grew brave and kissed the older man. Although her lips were lush and soft, Cicero's were hard and unyielding. She tried to advance the kiss, but the Keeper pushed her away. 

"We've talked about this, Marilena," he said softly. It was one of the few times he had said her name instead of her title, but any elation she felt died when he continued. "Cicero loves you as his sister, but nothing more." 

"Where are you going?" she whined when Cicero climbed out of the bed. "Please don't go." 

"Cicero will wait outside until the Listener falls asleep," he said. It killed her that his back was to her as he spoke. "I worry that you're too vulnerable right now and will try again, but when you've fallen asleep, Cicero will return and watch you through the night." 

"You know you're the one I've always wanted," she cried. "I wanted you first and you refused me. Maybe if you had said yes, those other men wouldn't be dead!" 

"Probably," Cicero said coldly as he opened the door that looked out onto the lake. "But Cicero is sworn to the Night Mother and no one else. Cicero will protect and give guidance to his Listener but nothing more. Goodnight." 

Marilena burst into tears again as the Imperial went outside. Maybe that's why she had been attracted to Marcurio, because he had been an Imperial too. She remembered the first time she had met Cicero on the road. He had been so distraught and frantic about his wagon wheel. It had been simple to get Loreius to fix it with her charm and sunny smiles. 

In a way, it had been just like the stories of knights, but Cicero had been the damsel in distress and she had been the shining knight. It had made her feel good and he had been so thankful. 

They had met again in Falkreath Sanctuary and been instant friends. She had grown to love him for his stories, songs, dances, and laughter. Then Astrid had insulted the Night Mother and Cicero had been banished for trying to kill her. Marilena never could have killed her sweet jester, but she had followed under the pretense of Astrid's command to keep him safe. 

She had almost died of happiness when they met again outside of Dawnstar Sanctuary. And after that, she always kept him close to her when she went out because she couldn't stand the thought of them being apart. He was her best friend despite being twice her age and she loved him with all her heart. 

He just didn't feel the same way. 

 

Cicero breathed in the lake air as he leaned against the rail. Sometimes he hated the Listener. It galled him that the Night Mother had chosen that child over him to be her favorite child. She had been little more than a squalling babe in her mother's arms when Cicero had become Keeper. She had been learning how to take her first steps while Cicero suffered in Cheydinhal alone except for the laughter. She had been surrounded by a loving family while Cicero waited alone in the dark. 

He had liked her well enough when they had met on the road, but she had just been a kind stranger who had helped poor Cicero. He would have been just as grateful to anyone else. Then they had met again and Cicero had been relieved to find someone who would at least be nice to him unlike the rest of the Sanctuary. 

Then she had become the Listener and Cicero had about fainted from the shock. This small, bouncy, silly child was the one chosen by the Night Mother? This girl who still dreamed about the concept of love and marriage instead of focusing on making the Dark Brotherhood into a threat against Tamriel once again? 

Cicero admittedly loved her, but truly only as a sister and no more than the rest of his dark family. He bitterly wanted to be the Listener instead of Keeper, but at least this sister was caring and kind. She watched out for all of her family and treated none of them poorly. And she followed the Tenets unlike the Pretender Astrid. 

They had spent a lot of time together, cuddled up to stay warm while traveling, sharing meals, laughing over stories, and killing, always killing for their gods. It had been nice. She had allowed Cicero to hunt again, and for that he was grateful. But that one night when she had tried to slip into his bedroll while she wore nothing more than a thin shift, Cicero had been forced to draw a line. 

"Listener, Cicero does not feel that way for you," he had told her. "Cicero never will." 

She had pouted with her big blue eyes full of tears, but she had returned to her roll nonetheless. Cicero had been relieved and thought it would be nothing more than an awkward night together. Then she had met that Marcurio fellow and started flirting with him. She had taken him instead of Cicero on her missions, never contracts, but they had explored caves and tombs together. 

Then she had come to Sanctuary, chirping and bubbly about being married. Cicero had smiled and nodded for her. Asked if he could come too because he couldn't stand the thought of not being there for his best friend for her wedding day. 

She had looked a little disappointed, but had agreed. They had traveled to Riften. While Marilena rested for her big day, Cicero had slipped out of Honeyside to find Marcurio. 

"Don't marry the girl," Cicero had warned him, his voice only honey and sweetness. 

"Please don't tell me that you have a crush on her," Marcurio had taunted. 

"Oh no, Cicero would never wish to be with her," the jester had replied, "but she belongs to another and that is not you." 

"Keep your jealousy to yourself," Marcurio had said disdainfully as he pushed Cicero aside. "I will marry her and there's nothing you can do about it." 

That's when Cicero had pushed the mage down the stairs. Marcurio had landed badly with one leg broken under him. He had still been conscious and screaming for help. Cicero had been forced to silence the man with a swift slash across his throat. It had been unfortunate since it was impossible to hide it as something other than a murder now, but the lake had taken care of the body well enough. 

Argis had been worse in attitude. After Cicero had given his warning, the man had said, "Just because you're a quill dicked eunuch who can't get it up to satisfy her doesn't mean I need to step aside." He had sneered. "She told me that she was still a virgin, just waiting for the right man. Well, I intend to be that for her." 

The two of them had been drinking at the Silver-Blood Inn. Argis had not talked that way normally, but he had been deep in his cups at the time. As Cicero helped the staggering man back to Vlindrel Hall, he had released his grip. When Argis fell to his knees, Cicero had introduced his dagger to the man's back  multiple times. It had been a very satisfying kill. 

And it had been that way with each suitor. Cicero would warn them to stay away from his mistress, and they would blow him off. At least Balimund had been polite about it. That's why Cicero had merely smothered him in his sleep. But they had to die. 

If the Listener married one of them, an outsider who didn't know or understand the Brotherhood, then her loyalties would divided and eventually she would have to choose. And Cicero knew what Marilena was like. She would want to choose her husband and any children she may have had with him by that point. 

That was unacceptable. 

Cicero had not waited and suffered for so long to allow his Listener to simply slip away. He would guard her and protect her. He would kill for her. But he would never ever let her go. Mother needed her and Cicero always got Mother what she wanted. 

The chill in the air was getting to be too much for the Imperial in his thin jester's garb. Cicero slipped back inside and was pleased to see his Listener was asleep. He crawled into the bed with her, still above the covers and placed his arms around her. 

Marilena's eyes fluttered open. Faint streaks of tears glittered in the moonlight. "You're back," she murmured. 

"Cicero is always here," he promised. 

"Kiss me," she commanded. Cicero never disobeyed, so he gave her a gentle kiss on the forehead. A brother's kiss. 

"If I were to order you to be with me, would you?" Marilena asked sullenly. 

"Yes," Cicero admitted, "but you wouldn't because you want it to be real and honestly given." 

"Damn you," she grumbled. "Why do you know me so well? Why can you not love me like I love you?" 

"Cicero only has enough room in his heart to love the Night Mother," he responded. "At least in the way you want." 

"Like a courtly love?" she asked. "A knight for his queen?" 

"Yes, oh yes." 

The young girl wrapped her arms tightly around the older man's waist, holding on to him as if she was drowning and he was the only thing keeping her afloat. "But we'll always be together right? Best friends forever, until one of us dies in service of the Night Mother?" 

"The Listener, Cicero, and the Night Mother together forever," Cicero promised, holding his Listener close. "Always and forever."


End file.
